This skin that calmly sits Collecting dust over my bones Is also mine To cherish with something As beatific as piety And this I can gift to no one But the worms that feast upon The rot beneath the earth

He ripped open her skullAnd watched as she crawled out of her mind,Shielding her eyes from the rays of the sun,Taking in whole heartedlyThe majesty of the green in the grass The green in the lumbering treesAnd the soft green in his eyes

On my sixteenth birthday Tar took me to the beach... we made love amidst the waves and smoked pot. When i told him i was a dyke, i didnt know that would be the last night i ever spoke a word to him... [in enters ArcoIris]

The streets are lined with fallen mangosI pick one up and count the rough, rotten, black spotsThat graces the smooth reds and oranges of the mango hideBut when the skin is peeled awayI wish for no other meat to slide so delectably over my tongueUntil my e

We watch the clock and glimpse every now and then at the window where the sun is creeping in like a bandit through the Venetian blinds...He reaches the thin, pale, fleshy underside of my wrist...stroking the pulse that lies there, as if it were a separate

Kay and Greta were children once.. before this happened (based on Hans Christian Anderson's The Snow Queen) the roses hae wilted and you mourn them as if they were of part of you.. maybe they were a part of us both... (incomplete)

Xandra is gone.. lost somewhere in the land of strange mushroom tattoos and cold women melting into beautiful things... Rome is afraid... everyone has demons... giants...everyone has a lost faerie love somewhere somewhere lost in something liek wonderland

we are the busted lips and bruised thighs of american... your intellectual and inteligent ideas wasting away behind the box of baseball trvia... women are just here to make your hotdogs... and mommy mommy daddys hurting me again... but you dont care...

there will always be purple nail polish to cover the pain... she wants to dance like jim morrison... with big Jacky O sunglasses...claiming a lost boy to tell stories to...but disney store tinkerbelle wings dont work that way

I am hungry, hungry for you...i am the hollow girl, heart fill with straw, leaning on you... you are my drug my drug and im suffering from withdrawl.. inspired by T.S. Elliot and my love.. very very special and personal to me...PLEASE R&R... i will R&R yo

Penny Lane was ciggarrette angst and silk songs. Griffin was peppermint tea leaves and skate board knee scrapes... they were brother and sister, but not really, more like lovers that never touched, until... PLZ R&R...

take these nails for your crucifix and balance the bible on your head as you lean in to purge yourself of your last meal (i mean no disrespect and don't mean to offend anyone with the title of this poem)